Fire and Brimstone
by accursedone17
Summary: The night that Charles Xavier adopted the young girl with red skin and yellow eyes when she broke into his school, he had no idea what the future would hold for them. But together, and with the people around them, they will survive anything the world will throw at them.
1. Chapter 1

_Salem Center, New York, _

"That's all for today, class. I'll be expecting the final drafts of your essays on my desk on Thursday's class. If not, then I am sure Mr. Logan would be glad to keep you after curfew for a training session. I here his new lesson plan is quite…rigorous."

Charles Xavier chuckled as he heard a plentiful number of groans and shudders from his Philosophy students as they filed out of his office. As the principal of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, he had many obligations to his mutant students. He had to provide shelter for them, give them a safe haven from the harsh reality of humanity. But he also had to discipline them, and enforce the rules that would ensure their safety. And if threatening them with detention with the infamous Wolverine landed their assignments in before the deadline, then it was certainly worth the criticism.

"Professor? Do you have a moment?" Charles turned his chair around, looking up to see Scott Summers in his doorway. Scott was one of the school's younger students, being only eighteen, and the younger brother of Alex, otherwise known as Havok. In some ways, the two brothers were very similar – the standoffish attitude, the stubbornness – even if they would never admit it.

" Of course, Scott. What troubles you?" Long ago, Charles had decided that without permission, he would never invade the minds of his students and staff. However, even without using his abilities, Charles could still feel a wave of discomfort and hesitance emanating from Scott.

"Well…you remember Rahne?"

Charles nodded. Rahne was one of the students that he had paid extra attention to since she had joined the school. The girl was young and frightened many new students with her lycanthropic abilities, but to those who truly knew her, she was quite possibly the sweetest person to walk the planet. Still, the wolf form that surfaced every once in a while concerned her classmates and roommates. Not to mention the feral look she got in her eyes when she was angry.

"I was talking to Jean yesterday, and apparently, some of the younger girls have been acting uneasy aroundher. Especially the newer ones." Scott added. He'd shoved his hands in his pockets, and Charles could clearly see that Jean had most likely pressured him into talking about it.

"I see. And I suppose that their definition of 'acting uneasy' includes of exclusion and avoidance in the hallways. Otherwise known as bullying." Charles felt his mind ache at the thought of his students bullying each other. It was highly forbidden at the school, considering the pasts that some of his students came from, but it still happened. Scott nodded, and sighed deeply. He had taken Rahne up as a sister ever since Logan had brought her to the school, and he was deeply regretful that the girls had been allowed to carry their 'uneasiness' this far. When Jean had pulled him aside that day and told him that she'd found Rahne crying in an empty stairwell, he knew that he had to put a stop to it.

"Alright, Scott, I'll look into it. In the meantime, keep an eye on those – " Suddenly, a sharp, shrill scream pierced the air, quickly followed by frantic shouting from the gardens. Charles and Scott both jumped at the noise, unused to it at this time of night. A few seconds later, Ororo appeared at the door, followed by Logan, both of them looking very frazzled. They looked to him for instructions, as was protocol.

"Ororo, lock down, now. Logan, Scott, with me." Charles ordered sharply as he began wheeling himself out of the office with a speed rarely seen by students or staff. Only Logan and Hank knew that Charles would move faster than the speed of light to protect his students.

The night was cool and crisp as Charles burst through the doors into the courtyard, but his heart was pounding and his mind was everywhere as he searched for the students in distress. Another scream, even louder than the last, abruptly disturbed his search. It had come from the other side of the East wall, where there were hardly any lights, and Charles felt a sinking feeling in his gut as he led Scott and Logan over there in record time. The smell of burning brimstone invaded his senses, but he ignored it and pushed on.

"Who's there?" He barked into the night as he stopped, focusing all of his energy on searching the shadowed trees with his abilities. All of a sudden, two figures burst out of the trees, and Charles mentally sighed when he recognized Remy LeBeau and Terry Cassidy – two of his 'rowdier' students. He would have scolded them right there and then, but at the moment, there were more pressing issues.

"Professor! Ye have to come quick! There's something out there that tried to kill us!" Terry cried, her eyes wide with fear as she and Remy stumbled across the grass to Charles. He raised an eyebrow, skeptical, but stopped when he heard another frightened scream, coming from back at the school.

_Professor! The courtyard! _Jean's voice rang loudly in his mind, silencing the wave of confused thoughts his students were projecting. With a sharp glance at the two teenagers, promising a severe future punishment, Charles turned his chair around and headed back towards the school, even faster than before. Logan and Scott were right on his heels as they tried their best to catch up with him, with Remy and Terry close behind. As they approached the school and the path began to light up, Charles saw a crowd of students standing outside of the courtyard. When they heard him coming, the students parted, and he wheeled right up to where Ororo and Jean were waiting for him at the door.

"Professor, it's not good. We think it's a rogue mutant that somehow heard about the school and managed it's way in. There are several students trapped in there right now with it." Ororo explained as a small cry came from the other side of the door. Charles' face clouded over, and he glared darkly at her. Both women flinched, unused to the anger they saw behind those eyes at the moment, and Jean stepped forward to open the door.

Even before the door closed behind him, the scent of burning brimstone overwhelmed Charles, making him cough and gag. The entire courtyard was filled with dark smoke that seemed to grab at him, and he heard sobbing in the corner. The thought of one of the students being hurt by this new mutant angered him greatly, but he pushed aside his anger to focus on the center of the problem. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, Charles opened his mind to everyone in the courtyard. Fear and pain filled his mind, mostly coming from the trapped students, but across from him, near the fountain, he could feel something else.

Pain. Anger. Hostility. Confusion. Desperation.

Suddenly, something in front of him snarled, and Charles' eyes snapped open. He let out a shaky gasp when he saw two bright yellow eyes staring at him through the smoke, filled with a violence he didn't think was possible. Vaguely, Charles was reminded a young girl he'd once thought of as a sister, but the pain in his heart forced him to suppress those memories.

"Who are you? Why are you here?" He asked gently, prodding the mutant's mind with his own to let it know that he meant no harm. Instead of a response, Charles received an angry guttural mix of words that made no sense at all. When he did not respond, the yellow eyes narrowed and the same string of words were repeated.

"I'm not here to hurt you." Charles spoke clearly, keeping his voice level so as not to anger the person.

"Geh weg!" This time, the words were much clearer, and Charles felt a shiver run down his spine when he heard the mutant speak fluent German. Again, a close friend came to mind, one he had been separated from for years, and Charles pinched the bridge of his nose as unwelcome memories threatened to overtake his thoughts.

He turned back to the mutant, but the yellow eyes were no longer there. Swirling around to search the courtyard, Charles finally located the mutant again. Only now, it seemed to be hovering at least as high as one of the second story windows, and the eyes were daring him to come any closer. Charles sighed; this was a waste of his time. The mutant was causing far too much trouble at the moment, and knowing that he had no choice, he struggled to remember the German he knew.

"Ich werde nicht. Sie müssen diese Leute gehen zu lassen." Upon hearing his somewhat shaky but comprehensible German, the yellow eyes widened, almost resembling shock. Slowly, they descended back down to ground level, and began to approach him. Charles reached out a placating hand, but it backed up quickly as soon as he did. He restrained another sigh, and bent down farther, so that he was almost eye level.

"Ich werde nicht, Sie zu verletzen." He assured as best as he could in another language, and the eyes softened. The mutant came closer, close enough to be within arms' reach of Charles, and stared up at him with uncertainty.

"Versprechen? Promise?" Now, Charles felt his own eyes widen. In German, the mutant had sounded so angry and much older, almost like an animal. Now, without the anger and with the promise of safety, it sounded so much more like a child, a frightened child.

Again, Charles reached out his hand. This time, the child did not back up.

"Versprechen. Promise." He said. For a few moments, the yellow eyes did not break contact with his. Then, there was a soft hiss, and the smoke began to clear. In the corner, the students started to cry out in relief, and the tight grip on Charles' heart relaxed, allowing him to breathe easier. The doors burst open, filling the courtyward with sound, and the freed students rushed towards their teachers and classmates with cries of relief. However, the reunion halted abruptly when everyone saw what – or who – exactly had caused them so much trouble.

In a different time period, humans would have called the child the devil's spawn. Ironically, today they still would have.

She was red. Not bright red, but a deep, vibrant red, likening to the colour of blood. A forked tail, not unlike the devil, swished back and forth on the ground behind her, as she crouched in front of Charles like an animal ready to spring. If Charles looked close enough, he could have sworn that her incisors were quite sharp, and noted that her ears were pointed. Like an elf's. But what shocked Charles the most was how young the girl seemed. She was small, and mostly definitely a child. If he hadn't detested guessing, then Charles would have guessed she was somewhere between the ages of seven and ten.

Despite the fact that she was not moving away any longer, the girl still watched him warily from her crouch. Charles saw that various scrapes and bruises marred her skin, and her white dress was ruined, torn in several places and stained with a dark red liquid. No wonder she was so hostile; she had been attacked, and brutally. His jaw tightened, but he had to focus on gaining this girl's trust.

"My name is Charles. I know what it is like to be afraid. Erschrocken. But this is a safe place. I can help you. Schützen Sie. All I need to know…is your name. Can you tell me your name?" With bated breath, Charles watched as the girl's eyes flickered over him and his chair. He wondered if she was going to try and escape, considering what she had just been through, until he blinked and she was by his side, looking up at him with a silent plea to not hurt her. It did not take telepathy to figure out the meaning of that look. He smiled down at her, and the girl bit her lip, before standing up on the tip of her toes to reach his ear. In a whisper, she said:

"Kata…Katarina."


	2. AN

**Hello Readers! This just in: I will be personally translating all German or other languages spoken during this story. For the first chapter: **

**Geh weg: Go away.**

**Ich werde nicht. Sie müssen diese Leute gehen zu lassen: I will not. You need to let these people go**

**Ich werde nicht, Sie zu verletzen: I'm not going to hurt you**

**Versprechen: Promise**

**Erschrocken: Frightened**

**Schutzen Sie: To protect you**

**Reviews are welcome, so please, let me know what you think! Chapter 2, coming up soon! **


	3. Chapter 3

_Xavier's School for Gifted Children, Infirmary_

"Charles, can you tell her to stop moving, please?"

Charles couldn't help chuckling, which annoyed Hank McCoy, otherwise known as Beast, even more. Katarina laughed even harder, her face bright and full of laughter, as she evaded the good doctor's examinations by climbing around the silver room. That was one thing they had discovered about Katarina with the first few minutes: she was certainly a gifted gymnast, and seemed to be able to stick to walls.

"I'm sorry, Hank. but at least she seems to be enjoying herself." Charles smiled, and Hank growled in frustration, his yellow eyes flaring with emotion. Suddenly, Katarina stopped, right in the middle of climbing the examination table, and peered up in what seemed to be curiosity at Hank. As he seethed, she slowly sat down in front of him, and turned to Charles, pointing at him.

"Blau!" She exclaimed, and Charles nodded in agreement, still laughing. About seven years ago, Hank had stopped taking the serum that he had created for him and Charles, and since then, he had accepted his appearance of a fuzzy blue lion that had earned him his nickname the Beast. In reality, Hank was one of the smartest teachers the school had ever hired, and taught a variety of classes, including some well beyond what Charles was capable of understanding. Nevertheless, Hank was quite close with his mentor, having rebuilt the school together, and with many of the current staff.

"Great. Now you're both laughing at me." Hank sighed, making both Katarina and Charles laugh some more. When they had finally calmed down, he pulled out a drawer from the side of the table and began arranging a variety of equipment. The gleam of the metal instruments caught Katarina's eye, but when she saw one of the larger scalpels, something in her face changed. Gone was laughter, and in its place was once again fear and anger. Charles noticed the change far too late, and before he could warn Hank, Katarina was gone, leaving behind a cloud of dark red brimstone-scented smoke and an odd bang. She reappeared at the far end of the room within the next second, baring her bright white fangs in defense as her tail whipped furiously around her, as if it had a mind of its own.

Hank was frozen in place, the scalpel on the floor at his feet, while Charles simply gaped at the sudden display of Katarina's mutant ability. She snarled fiercely, her black pupils dilating to the point that they resembled cat's eyes, and disappeared with another bang, reappearing in another corner of the room as the smoke dissipated. Hank jumped, and stumbled backwards as she lunged at him, only to teleport – yes, that was it – away from them both again.

As troubling as the current situation was, Hank's mind was elsewhere, at least thirty years in the past. Back at the CIA base where the search for mutants other than himself had begun, where he still looked human and absolutely enamored with a woman who hid behind the mask of a blond dynamo. He growled on instinct as unpleasant memories of corpses of CIA agents flashed in front of him. In the courtyard where the bodies laid, a man with skin the color of blood plunged a blade into another man's chest, and smiled at him.

"Azazel." Hank thundered, his restraint forgotten, fury pulsating through his veins. Behind him, Charles yelled something, but he did not hear it as he leapt to his feet and lunged for Katarina. She froze, clearly not expecting the sudden attack, and jumped out of his way, attaching herself high up the wall. He roared, and grabbed for her again.

"HANK!"

For a moment, Hank ignored the call of his name, focused only instead on catching, it would seem, the offspring – _demonmurdererdemonkiller_ \- of that vile mutant who relished in murder. But then his name was called again, and this time, he recognized the voice calling him. Turning around, he saw Charles there – _friendteachermentorfriend_ – and in an instant, his rage was gone. The reality of what he'd just done hit him full force, and his hands fell limply to his sides, his eyes intensely focused on the floor.

"Charles, I…I'm…"

"It's alright, Hank. I remember too. The mutant at the CIA the night Shaw found us, no? I understand your anger. But this child is not her father, and neither are we." Charles' gentle presence in his mind seeped away any deadly anger that still lingered in his mind, and Hank sagged, exhausted and ashamed. He hardly ever lost control; he prided himself on his ability to keep the 'Beast' part of him dormant. And a child, a frightened, injured child, had cost him his dignity and pride.

From the other side of the room, Katarina had finally climbed down the wall, her eyes trained carefully on Hank's trembling form. Charles could still sense fear in her mind, but it slowly seeped away as it occurred to her that Hank was not going to attack her. Her eyes conveyed guilt and sympathy, almost as if she could sense the turmoil in his mind. With a patience Charles had never seen before, the young mutant crept towards her elder, keeping her eyes on Hank, though she showed no sign of fleeing again.

"Mutant?" Katarina's voice was quiet, almost quiet enough that the two men didn't catch what she'd said. Hank's head shot up, and he nodded numbly, still in shock. Agilely, Katarina leapt up on to the table once again, and crouched closer to Hank, so that she was barely a foot from him. With one hand, she put one hand on her chest, and put her other hand to the older mutant's shaking chest.

Hank's trembling stilled as he felt Katarina's hand over his heart. Hesitantly, he met her gaze, and she smiled toothily at him, tilting her head to the side as she did. The words that she spoke next, in halting English, made both Charles and Hank freeze.

"Mutant…mutant a…and proud."

.


	4. Chapter 4

_Xavier's School for Gifted Children_

"Magneto? Are you certain she's with the Brotherhood?"

"Quite certain, Hank. After all, it was Raven herself who invented the ridiculous phrase herself. And we don't have to remind ourselves which side she chose." Charles grimaced as the fine scotch he'd downed burned his throat. With the bottle between them on his desk, both men had themselves comfortable by the fireplace in Charles' office, periodically downing a glass each. Hank didn't bother to mention that the professor had drunk far more tonight than he usually did. It was probably for a good reason.

"True. But if Katarina were with the Brotherhood, why did you let her stay here? Couldn't she be a spy for Magneto?" Hank pointed out. Charles didn't answer right away, his lips pursed as he stared into the crackling fire with distant eyes.

"I don't believe so." The older man finally replied, his voice raspy from the amount of alcohol he'd consumed, and turned to look at his colleague. Both of them looked miserable, Charles noted faintly, and set down his glass. After a moment of silence, he turned his chair around and smoothly made his way over to his desk, where he produced a thick file from apparently out of thin air.

"Now, when I say I don't believe Katarina is a spy, I truly mean that. I am confident that her position is one of great misfortune. However, that is not to say that she may not have been with the Brotherhood." He supplied, opening the file and laid three picture on the desk.

The first person in the file was almost unrecognizable. It appeared to be dead, though it was hard to tell in black and white. Then, Hank recognized the slicked back hair, the scar that ran through his left eye, and the darker skin tone.

"Azazel…he's…he's dead?" Hank found himself at loss for words.

"Indeed," Charles remarked with a pointed look, and then replaced that picture with another. This was much easier to recognize. With the cobalt blue skin, yellow eyes and crimson red hair slicked back away from her face, the person in the photograph was most definitely Raven. For a moment, Hank found himself suddenly overcome by his young love for the mutant girl in the picture, the first girl who had ever loved him unconditionally. Even with his 'condition'.

Finally, he put the photo down, willing himself to push aside his feelings. "Charles, if you don't mind me asking, what does this have to do with Katarina?" His answer was nothing more than a simple rearrangement of the photos, including the third one, a picture they had taken of the young girl who has currently sleeping in the next room.

"I had assumed it was a coincidence – another genetic flux. I was wrong. I took blood samples from Katarina, and compared them to samples from Raven I'd taken years ago. They match, Hank. You know what that means."

"Match? Then that means…oh, star and garters. Charles, surely not…it can't be." Hank breathed. It was far too personal to both of them to be real in any sense.

"I'm afraid so. Katarina is undoubtebly Raven's daughter. And if I'm right, Azazel is her father."

Nothing was ever going to be the same again.


	5. Chapter 5

Charles could not sleep.

He'd sent Hank to bed hours ago, knowing that the younger man needed the rest as much as he did. But even as he laid there in the darkness, something continued to gnaw at the back of Charles' mind, growing more persistent with every minute he spent awake.

_Raven had a child. A child. I'm technically an uncle. _

The thought seemed so out of place, considering the fact that his niece had arrived at the school alone. As far as he knew, she'd never seen the school, and Raven had not contacted him since Katarina had arrived in any way. What troubled him most, however, was where his former foster sister was, when her child was alone and frightened.

When he had first met Raven, Charles had been on the verge of believing he was insane. All of the voices floating around in his head, they had seemed like a figment of his imagination to his impressionable mind back then. Seeing Raven, knowing that he was not alone, had given him a sense of belonging in a world that grew more wary and hateful towards mutantkind with every passing hour. Raven had just been the beginning.

"Where _are_ you?" He breathed out, the sting of alcohol still fresh in his mouth, his tired eyes refusing to close despite how much he wanted to sleep.

As he closed his eyes and heaved another heavy sigh, Charles was startled from his troubled calm by the slight creak of a door opening. He sat up, reaching for the switch to his bedside lamp, and the room was instantly flooded with a warm light. Despite normally being composed, Charles felt his heart fail slightly at the haunting sight of Katarina standing in the doorway, her yellow eyes stark in the darkness. She wore a large white nightshirt, one that Hank had pulled from storage in the basement, which made her seem even smaller than she actually was, more vulnerable to the world she had inherited.

After a few long moments, Charles finally spoke.

"What is it, liebling?"

Silently, Katarina shuffled her way over to the side of the bed, wasting hardly a second before she climbed up in one smooth motion and sat down besides Charles. With a closer look, Charles realized that there were tear tracks streaming down her small crimson face, and quickly pulled her into a hug that enveloped her trembling body.

"Wo ist meine Mama? Wo ist mein Bruder?" She asked in a small, quivering voice, that sent pangs to Charles' heart, reminding him far too much of her mother the first time they had met. He held her tighter, doing his best to project soothing thoughts into the room until she finally quieted down and looked up at him.

"Du bist Onkel Charles." She whispered, the constant back and forth of her eyes sending out waves of anxiety and fear.

"Did your Mutter tell you who I am?" Charles asked her in a soft tone, and she nodded quickly as she fidgeted subtly in his arms. He let her go and she sat back on to her legs.

"Ich bin…ich bin erschrocken…die bösen Männer sagten, sie würden Mommy töten. Wirst du sie nehmen mich zu lassen?

Charles frowned. Someone had planned to kill Raven, and Katarina was beyond frightened of the men who had done so. It was possible that humans had finally found the Brotherhood and attacked, but it still did not explain why Katarina had arrived at the mansion alone. A slight hitch of breath drew his attention to the young girl once again, and he clucked his tongue slightly as he brought her once again into a tight hug. Her tears wet his shirt, but Katarina was the only thing in his mind that mattered at that moment. His niece, the daughter of his sister, was alone and scared, and wherever Raven was, he was the only one who could help Katarina now. As Katarina began to still and quiet down, her breaths evening out into the telltale sign of sleep, Charles sat back and looked down at the marvel in his arms.

And as he sat there, one thought burned in Charles' mind, even as he drifted off and joined Katarina in the welcoming embrace of sleep.

_I will protect you. _

**Hey guys, sorry about the excessive use of Google Translate and the short chapter. The next chapter is going to be longer and have more of Katarina POV. Anyway, thank you all so much for reading my stuff, you have no idea how happy it makes me. **

**To me, my X-Men!**


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